AN: Apologies for the delay - I'm a bit behind on updating, and I truly did mean to update once a day with this (hence the 12 days of Christmas presents). 'Twas not the best idea, especially with my holiday schedule, and am now headed on a whirlwind trip to warmer climes. But I do plan to keep updating this, and will try to catch up today. Thanks all for your especially lovely reviews, alerts, and favorites!
When A Child is Born was written for bethaboo, my amazing, amazing beta, twitter-friend, and the B to my S. Not only do we dutifully watch GG together every Monday, but we also discuss the episodes at length, spin crazy theories, and sigh over Blair's shoes. 'Tis quite a friendship, and I do love her to death. Merry Christmas, B!
Special thanks to The Very Last Valkyrie, who beta-ed this to keep it a surprise.
A silent wish sails the seven seas
The winds of change whisper in the trees
And the walls of doubt crumble tossed and torn
This comes to pass, when a child is born'
-When a Child is Born
December 24th, 2016
...
7:00am
They suggest bringing Corinne Noelle Bass home another day—or perhaps later in the afternoon. But Blair, obstinate as ever, and in dire need of preparation for Christmas Eve dinner, insists on the 8 o'clock departure.
Chuck, who is in no position to refuse anything to her, merely relents and calls their driver.
Blair frostily tells him she will get herself home, but Chuck shakes his head, telling her he will insist on this.
...
8:00am
Blair's bags are packed, Corinne safely nestled in her brand-new car seat, and Chuck, Chuck is left hailing a cab as Blair closes the door, nearly severing three of his fingers.
It takes Chuck, who has hailed a cab twice before in his life, nearly thirty extra minutes to return to their penthouse.
...
9:00am
He finds her in Corinne's nursery, the nursery she had thrown herself into decorating when she had found out Corinne's gender.
Blair is sitting in the rocking chair, the one she had painstakingly commissioned to match the rest of the furniture. She pays him no notice when he entered, absolutely enraptured by the tiny bundle in her arms.
His daughter, his seven pound eleven ounces of baby girl, is so tiny. So, so, so, tiny. Smaller than his briefcase. Slightly bigger than his Ferragamo loafers.
She is beautiful, he knows. Though Chuck had first seen his daughter through a glass window, he knows she is beautiful.
He hadn't been present for the birth. Only knew that there were complications, that Blair had lost a lot of blood. That little Corinne had soldiered through. That Blair hadn't had the same luck, but pulled through with some unknown miracle.
Hearing that the birth had not gone particularly well had been almost as bad as if he were actually there.
And so, Chuck Bass saw his daughter up close for the very first time, four days after her birth.
Corinne Noelle had her father's dark hair, barely a shade darker than her mother's, but the rest of her features belonged entirely to Blair.
Small, puckering rosebud lips and a delicate, slightly upturned nose were Blair, through and through.
Chuck could not tell you the color of his daughter's eyes, because he had yet to see her open them.
"Blair," he tries, his voice yearning and apology all wrapped up into one, and she pays him no attention.
Blair is simply staring at the face of her daughter, as if memorizing it, the curve of her nose, the exact rosy shade of her lips.
Chuck doesn't blame her. It is exactly what he would do too—and it is exactly what he does, sitting beside them on the carpet and simply staring at Corinne.
...
10:00am
His left foot has fallen asleep, but he doesn't dare move. The silence between them grows thicker with each passing moment—but neither mind. They are simply content to sit and stare at their daughter.
But then Blair wrenches her gaze from Corinne long enough to glance at the butterfly-shaped clock on the nightstand.
Sighing, Blair stands up, and Chuck is up immediately as well, attempting to offer assistance as best he can.
Blair merely turns her back on him, setting their daughter gently into the crib.
Chuck has to keep reminding himself that Corinne is their daughter—not just hers.
Because at times, it most definitely felt like the latter.
...
11:00am
"Blair, please."
He catches her off guard, this time. She is unpacking slowly, lethargically, as if each garment weighed heavily on her dainty hands. Chuck can see the lines of fresh fatigue, the stress, and he worries.
He knows he has no right to worry. It has been a week and a half since he left, telling Blair that the crisis in Denmark couldn't wait. That it was too important to leave to his subordinates.
Blair, the nine-month pregnant Blair, had thrown a plate at his head.
"I don't want to talk," she tells him, and her voice holds no resentment, only exhaustion.
"We should talk," he counters, and a glimmer of anger shines through in Blair's eyes.
"We're past talking," she reminds him, and she walks away without another backwards glance.
Their penthouse is large enough—spanning three floors and with its own private courtyard—that it is far too easy to avoid one another.
...
12:00pm
She is curled into a ball, knees tucked under her chin as she gazes thoughtfully out the windows, eyes not seeing, mind blank as a slate.
"Your favorites," Chucks says, and hands her the tray he had prepared.
"I'm not hungry," Blair replies, not glancing at the tray.
"You just gave birth," Chuck points out.
"Four days ago," Blair reminds him, not unkindly. "Just because you didn't arrive at the hospital until two days ago—"
"You know I tried my best, but the snow—"
"You shouldn't have been there in the first place!" Blair explodes, and every pent-up emotion, every hidden tear, falls at his feet, in the form of a tearful Blair, throwing her hands up in frustration and dealing biting words at him as easily as poker dealers deal aces and nines, kings and queens.
"I told you—" Chuck begins, but he knows his argument is futile.
"You knew I was pregnant," Blair hisses, and the guilt threatens to consume him. "You've known I was pregnant for nine months, and yet you bolt when her due date approaches. I checked with Ryan, Chuck. They could have resolved Denmark without your help. This had nothing to do with Bass Industries. It has to do with you, running from your fears. You know," at this, Blair takes a breath, "I thought you'd changed. When I married you, I didn't realize I was marrying the same insecure seventeen-year-old boy who ran from the first sign of affection."
Her tirade over, Blair's breasts heave, her cheeks are tinged pink with exertion, and the fury in her eyes is palpable.
"I'm sorry," Chuck begins, but Blair's expression tells him that this time, 'Sorry' simply won't cut it.
She walks away from him as easily as he walked away from their family.
...
1:00pm
Corinne is crying. The wailing, high-pitched cry reverberates through his ears, and breaks his heart.
There is nothing he can do, on the other side of a locked door.
...
2:00pm
Corinne stops crying, and Chuck can hear the weary sigh of tired relief. They are supposed to be doing this together, he thinks.
But he knows Blair is not at fault here—because somehow, every blip in their relationship could be traced back to him.
...
3:00pm
The silence on the other side of the door is alarming. Gone are Corinne's cries. Gone is Blair's soft, sweet voice singing a melody he can't quite make out.
He doesn't know if he should knock—would that wake Corinne? So he stands there, hands poised to knock, expression unsure.
...
4:00pm
He's still unsure when Blair finally opens the door, looking at him in confusion.
"I fell asleep," she says, by way of an explanation, and slips past him, leaving behind the faint, lingering scent of her perfume, and the destruction of his heart.
...
5:00pm
He has been sitting beside Corinne's bassinet, chair pulled up to the pink-and-white lace, eyes trained on his daughter's sleeping face.
He could look at her forever, he thinks.
And yet, it will always remain. The blame in Blair's eyes when he finally appeared at the hospital, two days too late.
It was wrong to leave so far into her pregnancy, that he knows. And furthermore, the crisis in Denmark could have just as easily been handled by one of his subordinates.
But when the call had come in, and Ryan had assured him that he need not go, especially with Blair pregnant, he found his escape.
Chuck has known, all along, that he is a coward—this only solidifies it. When the eight-month mark had hit, Chuck had panicked. The doctor reported increasing worry over Blair's health, over Blair's heart, over the baby's health, until everything became a blur of doctor's orders and barely restrained worry.
Until everything came together in one horrifying, frightening conclusion. That having this baby could kill Blair.
Chuck had panicked, broken out in cold sweats and paced rooms at four in the morning.
The trip to Denmark consisted of him, a bottle of scotch, and Serena's name on the screen.
...
6:00pm
"I'm sorry."
She's eating a salad, perched on a stool, staring into space.
He really wishes she'd stop eating salads.
"I know," she replies simply, still refusing to stare at him.
"You haven't forgiven me," he states. And Blair shakes her head.
"Not yet."
...
7:00pm
Corinne's awake again, and Blair's in the nursing her, Chuck watching from the doorway.
"You're good with her," he says, and Blair doesn't deign to look at him.
"I have to be," she replies frostily. "I was prepared to take her home on my own."
"Blair—"
"Please," she begs, eyes closing and opening, still looking anywhere but at him. "Don't do this."
"I don't want—"
"Not now, Chuck," Blair hisses, as Corinne begins wailing once more.
He sighs and leaves the room.
...
8:00pm
She's wearing red. A red empire-waisted dress, and black heels—the former because she just gave birth, the latter despite the fact she just gave birth.
He always loved her in red.
"Red bowtie," she reminds him, tossing the silk at him. And he smiles slightly, because Blair may be angry, but she's still insisting they match.
"Dorota's coming over to take care of Corinne," Blair says, affixing pearls to her ears. "But I want to be back at ten."
"I don't want to leave at all," Chuck murmurs, and Blair smiles sadly.
"Neither do I."
It is the first time she has said anything without a modicum of hostility.
"But we have to go," he finishes for her, and Blair nods.
...
9:00pm
Blair has snuck away from dinner six times already, to call Dorota, no doubt.
He tries to follow her the first time—he didn't make the mistake for the next five.
"How is she?" He whispers, when Blair returns, all cheery smiles and forced happiness. There are congratulations all around, and Blair revels in the attention—but Chuck knows she misses Corinne.
"Fine," she whispers back, and Chuck knows not to press for any more information.
"Ten?" he asks.
"Ten," she affirms.
He begins counting down the minutes.
...
10:00pm
Blair is through the door and up the stairs before him, heels in her hand, bare feet against cold marble.
Chuck hangs back in the doorway of Corinne's nursery, watching as Blair takes their daughter from her crib and thanks Dorota.
Dorota passes him on her way out, and the look she gives him is halfway between pity and anger.
"Why is she up?" he asks, recalling the words he had read on the plane, in the book he had bought in secret. "She's supposed to be sleeping a lot."
Blair shrugs, "Maybe she wanted to see us."
The way she says us instead of me, encourages him to go over to the both of them, and it is further encouragement when she wraps a free arm around his back, and he turns towards the both of them, holding them close.
...
11:00pm
She still sits in front of her vanity, brushing her hair, eyes unfocused, hand moving methodically through her chocolate tresses.
"I'll sleep in the guest bedroom tonight," she says when she spots him over her shoulder.
He knows it is futile to argue against her.
"No," he shakes his head. "I'll sleep there. You can sleep here."
Blair nods, and points to the mound of baby monitors they had bought previously.
"You cant take one with you," she says. "But I'll take care of Corinne tonight."
"We can take turns?" he nearly begs.
Blair shakes her head no, "Not tonight. You can tomorrow."
She heads to the bathroom, and he knows it is his cue to leave.
...
December 25, 2016
...
12:00am
He can't sleep.
He's had three cups of sleepytime tea—Dorota had gotten him hooked when he had a bout of insomnia.
The carpet in the guest bedroom must be worn from his pacing, he thinks.
And he regrets ever stepping foot on that jet.
...
1:00am
The pacing has stopped. The tea has been replaced by a tumbler of scotch.
He hopes Blair doesn't figure it out.
He looks at his phone, and he finally remembers.
It's Christmas.
...
2:00am
There are forty-six presents under the tree, and he adds one more. A jewellery box, bought in Denmark to show that he still cares.
...
3:00am
Corinne is crying, and he can hear Blair singing quietly over the baby monitor.
Chuck knows she is exhausted—can hear it in the timbre of her voice and can visualize it in his mind.
It takes all his willpower not to run to Corinne's nursery.
...
4:00am
Sleep finally finds him, and when his eyes close, he is anything but contented.
...
5:00am
Chuck wakes suddenly, eyes popping open, covered in a cold sweat.
He doesn't remember the dream, but try as he may, he can't go back to sleep.
...
6:00am
Corinne is crying again. His fingernails dig into his palms and he closes his eyes tightly.
...
7:00am
Corinne is asleep—Blair is, as well.
Chuck finally musters the courage to tiptoe past their bedroom and see his daughter.
She starts to cry when he opens the door.
...
8:00am
Blair is angry, cutting fruit with a ferocity he knows is unmatched.
"Merry Christmas," he offers timidly, and her heated movements still.
"Merry Christmas," she says quietly, and then takes her plate and walks away.
...
9:00am
"We should go to my mother's brunch," she says with a sigh, spotting him over her shoulder.
"We'll see her tonight," he argues.
Blair shakes her head, bites her lip, and wars with herself.
"Tonight," she agrees in relief.
...
10:00am
"You haven't opened your presents," Chuck notes, in the doorway of Corinne's nursery once more.
Blair shrugs, "I don't need them."
"Me neither," Chuck says under his breath, and their gazes meet over the head of their daughter. As cheesy as it sounds, he knows she is the best present yet.
"What?" she asks in irritation, when Chuck continues to stare at them.
"You're beautiful," he tells her, and Blair doesn't respond. "She's beautiful," he adds.
"She is," Blair agrees proudly.
...
11:00am
Corinne is asleep, and he finds Blair sipping tea in front of their Christmas tree, a seventeen-foot monster decorated to perfection.
He walks right past her and to the tree.
"I don't want—"
He hands her the box wordlessly, and Blair looks at him exasperatedly before opening the box.
Inside, are two charms, one larger than the other. The largest, is a rose gold B, a diamond and enamel butterfly perched on the initial. The smaller one is a matching C, with the same butterfly.
"The entire time I was there," Chuck says quietly, "I was wishing I was here."
"Why weren't you?" Blair asks, accusation clear in her tone.
"I was afraid," he admits, and Blair shakes her head.
"You always run."
"I know."
"What were you afraid of?"
Chuck sighs, and he sits across from her, chin in hands.
"Losing you. Hating Corinne. Losing Corinne. Losing the both of you. Hating myself."
The words are staccato, to prevent against his voice cracking, and each one endears him to Blair even more.
"You didn't lose me," she begins, then continues on to correct each statement. "And we didn't lose Corinne either. As for the last one…"
She lets her words trail off, and Chuck wonders if she hates him too.
"I could never hate you," she admits, "and you could never hate something that was a part of you and me."
"No," Chuck agrees, "I couldn't."
Blair sighs, then picks up the box thoughtfully, "Thank you, Chuck. It's perfect."
...
12:00pm
Corinne is crying again, but when Blair looks up at him from her meager lunch, she smiles.
"Do you want to get her?"
He's up and tripping over his seat before she can even finish her sentence.
And her laughter follows him up the stairs as he runs to his daughter.
...
1:00pm
When Blair wanders into the nursery, wondering what had taken him so long, she finds him in the rocking chair, fast asleep with their daughter in his arms.
It is precious and dear, and near brings tears to her eyes as she sits down, content with watching her husband and daughter.
She will forgive him, she knows. If anything, she has already forgiven him. She understands his fear better than anyone else—knows that Chuck has feared hating his own child because of his own father's wrath.
And as Chuck snores lightly and Corinne gurgles lightly in her sleep, Blair draws her knees to her chest and smiles happily.
...
2:00pm
Corinne wakes up with a wail, and Chuck does so as well—his eyes unfocused and half-scared.
Blair takes Corinne with a smile, and Chuck looks at the clock with a frown.
"How long have I been asleep?"
"Two hours," Blair says, with a small laugh.
"I didn't sleep well last night," he hurries to explain, and a thousand scenarios run through his head, of him dropping his daughter in his sleep, of him accidentally smothering her, of him—
"Nothing happened," Blair assures him, small hand over his. "And if anything, it was precious. I can't wait to show everyone the picture tonight."
Chuck's eyes bug out in fear, and Blair laughs melodically.
"You wouldn't," he breathes.
"I would," Blair says, mischievous twinkle in her eyes. "I want everyone to know what a perfect father you are. Such a softie, Bass."
"I am not," he retorts immediately, but the words perfect and father have a strange effect on him.
Namely, it feels like champagne spreading through his veins and his heart doing an odd expanding thing.
...
3:00pm
"We should open the rest of the presents," Blair decides, sitting next to him on the couch.
"I've never been one to feel guilty," Chuck begins, and off Blair's raised eyebrow, "but we really do have everything."
Blair leans into him, and the reaction is automatic, Chuck wrapping an arm around her waist.
"We've always been selfish people," Blair agrees, then looks at the presents below the tree, shiny baubles and velvet shoes, things she would easily give up for her daughter.
"We should do something," Chuck says, and Blair knows exactly what he means.
"Beyond throwing another benefit?" She asks playfully.
Chuck shrugs. "I'm not sure what. But I want to—"
"I know, Bass," Blair says with a smile.
...
4:00pm
"Are we baking the pie?" Chuck asks Blair sometime later, and she gives him a look that says, Of course, what were you expecting?
"I'll make the crust—" she begins.
"And I'll make the filling," he finishes.
They spend the next hour in easy conversation, their routine set, their movements coordinated due to years of holiday pie-making.
In short, it is perfect.
...
5:00pm
"I don't want to go," Blair admits.
"Let's not," Chuck suggests.
Blair shakes her head, "My mother would kill us."
Chuck shakes his head as well, "Eleanor has a soft spot for babies. We'll use Corinne as a shield."
"You're going to use our four-day-old daughter against my mother?" Blair asks in amusement.
"We'll threaten removal of babysitting rights," Chuck amends.
"She'll be thrilled," Blair says drily.
"Don't be so sure," Chuck chides. "The day before we left the hospital, she was practically begging to take her home."
"She does adore Corinne," Blair says with a wistful sigh.
"She simply wishes she was like that with you, too," Chuck counters, and Blair rolls her eyes at him.
"We should go," she sighs.
Chuck shrugs, "I would rather spend the day here."
"Me too," Blair says. "But duty calls."
...
6:00pm
The pie is covered in foil, Corinne is dressed in her miniature red dress and black coat, and Blair looks immaculate as ever.
Chuck takes one glance at the tree, and the still unopened presents, and calls Joseph up.
"Load them in the limo, please."
Blair looks at him in confusion at the strange request, but says nothing as Joseph does as is requested of him.
...
7:00pm
"We're going to be late," Blair says worriedly, glancing out the window. "Where are we anyways, Bass?"
"Women and Children's shelter of New York," Chuck says sheepishly, pointing at the sign.
"The presents—"
"Yeah," Chuck agrees, and Blair smiles.
"I love it," she declares.
...
8:00pm
Eleanor chastises them for being half an hour late, but Chuck and Blair share secret smiles over their daughter's head. Spending an hour handing out presents had been more rewarding than either of them had thought.
Besides, like Chuck had said, they had everything now.
...
9:00pm
"She's adorable, Blair," Serena coos, eyes never leaving the baby.
At barely five days old, Corinne had already captured everyone's attention, and her parents stood off to the side, grinning proudly.
"If you ever need babysitting—" Nate pipes up, but is promptly cut off by Serena.
"You can't babysit, Nate. As Corinne's godmother, I'll do it, of course."
"I'm her godfather," Nate all but whines, and Blair cuts in, smirking.
"You can both take turns in two months," she tells them.
"Why two months?" Serena asks in confusion.
"That's when the doctor said it would be safe for Blair and I to—"
"Ew!" Serena says, before Chuck can finish his sentence, clapping her hands over her ears and closing her eyes tightly.
"S," Blair says with a roll of her eyes and a smirk that matched Chuck's, "how do you think Corinne was conceived?"
Serena represses a shudder.
...
10:00pm
"You're leaving?" Eleanor pouts, eyes following her departing grandchild.
"It's late, mother," Blair says, and Eleanor frowns.
"Nonsense! It's only ten o'clock."
"Corinne's getting tired," Blair points out, and Eleanor leads her towards a room.
"We were going to wait," she says, opening the door, "but I think this is the perfect opportunity."
Inside, Eleanor had transformed the entire room, turning it into a nursery to rival Corinne's at home.
"We figured we were going to be babysitting three days out of the week," Eleanor admits, and Blair stifles a grin.
"It's beautiful," she declares, "but we really do need to get going."
Eleanor sighs dramatically. "It was worth a try."
Blair laughs, turning back towards the main hallway, when Eleanor calls her back.
"Blair?"
She turns, and the look on Eleanor's face is one of pride, something she is sure she has never seen before.
"You're going to be a wonderful mother," Eleanor tells her daughter. "I can see it already."
"Thank you," Blair says, voice cracking on the end of her sentence.
Eleanor hugs her daughter and granddaughter, and she knew that she had never had a better Christmas.
...
11:00pm
"She has a nursery all set up," Blair tells Chuck with a quiet laugh, as they watch their daughter slumber peacefully.
"Is she planning on kidnapping Corinne any time soon?" Chuck asks incredulously, as they reluctantly leave.
"I wouldn't be surprised," Blair says with a shake of her head.
"We'll have Joseph on lookout for her," Chuck suggests lightly.
"She'll probably disguise herself," Blair says thoughtfully.
"Eleanor? In disguise?"
"I wouldn't put it past her," Blair says, and they share another laugh.
They pause at the bedroom door uncertainly, and Blair only smiles encouragingly, opening the door.
And Chuck knows he is forgiven.
...
12:00am
"Blair?"
"Chuck?" she says sleepily, snuggling closer into his side for warmth.
"I can't promise I won't leave again," he says quietly, "because that's who I am. But I can promise I'll come back."
"Thank you," Blair murmurs against his chest.
"Merry Christmas, Blair."
"Merry Christmas, Chuck."
fin